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Chapter 561
Chapter 561:
The technicians typed in a frenzy. Then a cascade of bright red ACCESS DENIED warnings flooded every screen simultaneously.
The CSO’s face went pale.
“Boss… we can’t get in.” He swallowed. “Crawford’s team has bought off the local telecom provider. Every external access request to the public surveillance network is being rerouted to a decoy server. It’s not a hard wall — it’s a sophisticated network deception. They’re making us chase shadows p>
Cole shoved him aside and stared at the red code filling the screens.
He knew exactly what it meant. There was only one man in the country running a private intelligence network capable of deploying this kind of digital blackout.
“Check Crawford’s flight logs,” Cole said, his voice dropping to something quiet and dangerous. “Every piece of real estate he owns in California. Everything p>
The intel came back ten minutes later. Crawford’s Gulfstream G650 had landed in San Francisco three days ago — and then its transponder had gone dark. Crawford held no registered property in Carmel under his name or any of his known corporate entities.
A freezing, suffocating panic closed around Cole’s chest.
S𝘩𝖺𝘳e 𝘺𝗈𝗎r 𝗳𝖺𝗏о𝗿𝘪tеѕ 𝘧r𝗈𝗺
He had always told himself that June was simply throwing a tantrum. That as long as she remained in New York, she could never truly be beyond his reach. He had believed it without question.
But she was three thousand miles away now. Hidden inside the impenetrable operation of his worst enemy. He couldn’t see her. He couldn’t get to her.
The paranoia cracked something open inside him. His mind began to produce images he couldn’t control — June in a room he didn’t know, with Crawford’s hands on her.
“She hasn’t even signed the final divorce decree,” Cole muttered, his voice shaking in a way that had nothing to do with composure. “How dare she. How dare she p>
He pulled his arm back and drove his fist into the solid metal edge of the console. The skin across his knuckles split. Blood smeared across the steel. He didn’t flinch. He couldn’t feel it.
He turned around. His eyes had gone completely flat — all the frantic, burning anger drained out of them, replaced by something colder and far more deliberate.
If he couldn’t reach Crawford in the physical world, he would drag him out onto the battlefield they both knew.
Cole walked out of the war room, took the private elevator directly to the Compton Group’s global trading floor, and stepped into a room running on a skeleton night crew monitoring the Asian markets. He walked to the central podium and picked up the master microphone that fed into the headsets of every senior trader in the building.
He hadn’t slept in three days. He was running entirely on adrenaline and rage, and it showed in every line of his face.
“Wake every core portfolio manager and get them on this floor in twenty minutes,” he said. His voice carried no inflection, no emotion — the voice of a man issuing a sentence, not giving an order. The night-shift traders looked up from their screens and stared.